Another Dumb Blonde
by MonkFan
Summary: A new teacher arrives at Hogwarts. She's a bit...unconventional, and defintaely something the castle has never seen before, and likely wont see again. Harry/Miora(my character) R/R, PLEASE!
1. Bitter, arent we?

** Disclaimer. I don't own any of the characters mentioned in the following story, save for Miora Lafayette. **  
  
(NOTE! This takes place in Harry, Ron, and Hermione's sixth year, although the focus of the story isn't to continue things from the last book. So don't nag about things not being correct.)  
  
School at Hogwarts was back in session. As the students stepped off of the Hogwarts Express and into their boats or coaches, it seemed as though things had changed. Indeed, they had. As our favorite trio entered and took their seats in the great hall, there was a quiet buzz going about the room. It was about the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Nobody knew who it was. well, nobody really WANTED to know.  
  
After all, the past five hadn't been the most admirable bunch of people. An incarnation of Voldemort, an egotistical (now brainwashed) celebrity, a werewolf, another incarnation of voldemort (kind of...) and a ministry of magic control freak.  
  
"I," said Ron, as he shoved a piece of bread into his mouth, "heard she's a vampire."  
"I find that highly unlikely." Hermione replied matter-of-factly.  
"I dunno." Harry said, shrugging. "A vampire would fit right in.the lessons would be very hands-on, no?"  
"Would you WANT them to be?" Ron said, turning slightly pale.  
"No, she's not a vampire." interrupted Neville, from a few seats away. "My Gran heard that's she's related to Prof. McGonagall."  
  
This statement gave them all an image of a strict, honest, hair-in-a- tight-bun old woman. But before they could discuss it, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. The entire hall grew silent.  
  
"Students! Welcome back to Hogwarts. All new students please report to your prefects promptly following dinner for the rules, regulations, and passwords for your common rooms. We all looks forward to a learning filled year. And now, I would like to introduced you all to the newest addition to our faculty here at Hogwarts. Her name is Professor Lafayette." He motioned over toward a young, nervous looking witch. "Stand up, Miora." He added in an undertone.  
  
Prof. Lafayette stood up, and made her way to Dumbledore's side. A few seconds later, collectively every male in the room was staring at her. She was tall, and her hair was blonde in a short, Marilyn Munroe-style, save for a few faint red streaks. Her skin was milky white, and her hazel eyes peered out from behind thick black lashes. She was fat nor thin, simply solid. She was curvy, although not so much that it would have made her look sleazy. No, in fact, her beauty was of an elegant air. She was impressive yet oddly intimidating. She waved at the crowd and smiled, as though she didn't notice the outpouring of attention towards her. Then she sat back down.  
  
As the students began to file out of the hall, it seemed as though she was all that people were talking about. Things like "She's a goddess" and "stunning." came out of the mouths of the male population, while things more like "dumb blonde" and other bitter comments came from the girls.  
  
"Did you SEE her?" Ron gaped to the other boys in the dormitories. "She can't be more than twenty."  
"I doubt I'll be able to pay attention to her lessons." Replied an eager Lee Jordan.  
  
This is how things went for the boys that night. The girls, however, had a completely different experience. 


	2. Is she serious?

There was an extra bed in the girls' dormitory when Hermione and the other Gryffindor girls arrived there.  
"Who's it for?" Lavender said thoughtfully.  
"Probably just a transfer student." Hermione replied nonchalantly, not looking up from her book. The other girls nodded, and scattered off into their usual groups, filling the room with a warm buzz. This was abruptly interrupted by a few trunks floating into the room and landing on the empty bed. They were followed by none other than Prof. Lafayette, who was pocketing her oddly long wand as she walked in.  
  
"Hi girls!" She said cheerily, plopping down on the bed. She received a rather unenthusiastic "hello, professor."  
"Ummmm, Professor, I'd hate to be rude, but why are you here?" Hermione asked hesitantly.  
"They didn't tell you?" Prof. Lafayette said, raising an eyebrow. "Ahh, well that's ok. Ya see, I just got here, and they don't have a room for me yet, so I'm gonna be sleeping in the Gryffindor Dormitories."  
"Oh." she replied, not sounding so happy. "That's wonderful, professor. Really."  
"Oh, please, call me Miora! Professor makes me sound so old, don't you think?"  
No answer. She sighed, and began to magically pin various photos (magical and non) onto the wall above her bed, much like a teenager. She finished much later, after all the girls had gone to sleep. She surveyed the room, smiling to herself. "Just like the old days." She thought, lying down to sleep.  
Professor Lafayette did not show up at breakfast the next morning. The subject of her had now died down, even though everyone was quite eager to see what her lessons would be like. The Gryffindor sixth years happened to be her first class that day, a double-session. Many people arrived at the classroom early, only to find the door shut. A note, written in purple ink, was on the door. It read, "Please stand in a single file line, get a quill, parchment, and ink ready. Love, Prof. Lafayette" This raised a few eyebrows, although the students obeyed.  
About ten minutes later, the door opened, revealing Prof. Lafayette behind it. She stepped aside and held it open, ushering the students inside.  
"Okay, everyone! Just sit down in whatever desk you fancy, and don't talk."  
Everyone did so. Hermione noticed that the professor looked extremely nervous. She was sitting behind her desk, fiddling with her wand and smoothing out her robes and hair. Finally she stood up and said  
"So, students, my name is Professor Miora Octavia Minerva Belladonna Eloise Lafayette. BUT, you can call me Professor, Miora, or Madame. Any questions?"  
Ron had raised his hand.  
"Yes, dear?"  
"Umm, why do you have so many middle names?" Miora grinned and tapped the chalkboard. What looked like a family tree showed up. On the bottom was "Miora", above which was "Belladonna" and "Eric". Above "Belladonna" was "Minerva" and a name they could not make out, and above "Eric" was "Octavia" and "Merrill".  
"I have a middle name after my mother, both my grandmothers, and my great-grandmother on my father's side. And yes, the Minerva is our Professor McGonagall, Hermione."  
  
"WELL, anyway, I'm teaching DADA this year, and, I must say, it's going to be quite enjoyable for you. Especially, I believe, when we have joint classes. Joint classes will be when we have other teachers come and teach with me, about the importance of say, herbs in defending yourself. Yes, Harry?"  
"Is this something new? I haven't heard any previous sixth years talking about it."  
Miora beamed, walking over to his desk. "Why, yes, how observant of you! It was MY idea, actually." She then walked over to her own desk and sat down. "Now, everyone, I want you to fill out the questions that are on your papers.." She tapped her wand on the nearest desk, and about ten questions appeared on every piece of parchment. The class just stared up at her, collectively thinking "Is she for real?"  
"Go on, then. You've got twenty minutes, and then we're going to share with the class!"  
"Why are we doing this, Professor?" Neville asked quietly. "We all know each other by now."  
"Well, of course YOU all do, dear, but I don't.And I would so love to get to know each and every one of you a bit better. SO, get to work everyone." She smiled at the class again, and sat down.  
  
Okay, that's the second chapter. Don't worry, it gets better. And if you're offended by Miora (if you're blonde) don't worry, she gets deeper. Yes, some serious character development is coming. So keep reading ( 


	3. Of Female Bonding

As the class was dismissed to go to lunch, everyone was a bit bewildered, and no one was quite sure weather they liked the professor or not.  
  
"Why does she call everyone dear? It's really creepy." Ron asked at lunch.  
"Usually, someone does that to make up for some emotional inadequacy." Hermione replied, as though it was quite obvious.  
"Emotional inadequacy? As in she still sleeps with a teddy bear?"  
"NO, emotional inadequacy as in she's trying to make up for something that's lacking, like-"  
"She sure isn't lacking in anything!" interrupted Seamus. "In fact, she's got plenty to spare!"  
Hermione made a disgusted face at him. "Pig.." She muttered, as she went back to reading a book.  
"What do you mean, pig? It's true!"  
"That is such a sexist comment, it's disgusting. She's a human, and she shouldn't be ogled at like some new broomstick in a Quidditch store window! I suppose you have a house-elf at home too, don't you?"  
"Are you STILL going on about that spew thing, Hermione?" Ron interrupted.  
"YES, I AM!" Hermione half-shrieked. She grabbed her bag, stuffed her book in it, and stormed out, heading for the common room.  
  
"What was THAT about?" Harry asked. Ron thought it odd that he hadn't tried to break them up.  
"I dunno. She's a teenage girl. They all act hormonal sometimes.at least, that's what I heard Bill say once." Ron replied, shrugging. "She'll get over it. She always does." And this was where the conversation ended. They went back to eating, and forgot all about Hermione's outburst, all except Harry. Harry found himself pondering why it was that Hermione was sticking up for Professor Lafayette. After all, it didn't seem they had anything in common, other than the fact they were both females.  
  
Hermione was thinking about this exact same thing as she made her way to the dormitories, slowly calming herself down. She, honestly, didn't know why she had done that. She knew that she didn't particularly LIKE Miora. After all, she seemed rather bubbly, self-absorbed, and immature. She didn't feel sorry for her, since even the girls would now admit that she was very pretty. She couldn't even relate to her, since Hermione was sure that Miora had been one of the popular girls in Hogwarts, whereas she herself only had a few close friends. If all this is true, she thought, then why did I stand up for her?  
  
Hermione sighed, and tried to shrug the thought away as she entered the common room and sank into her favorite chair in front of the fire. She stared into the fire, with its dancing flames, its glowing embers of deep reds and oranges, mystified. It was somehow soothing to her. The fires at Hogwarts just weren't like the ones at home. They had a therapeutic quality to them, and it seemed as though the warmth was slowly soothing her frazzled nerves and tired brain. Before then, she hadn't noticed that she wasn't alone in the common room. She looked over and saw a mass of blonde hair sticking out above the back of a nearby chair. She sunk down in her chair, hoping that Miora was asleep, hoping that she wouldn't notice her. After all, she was the last person Hermione wanted to talk to at the moment. But of course, she just wouldn't be blessed with that kind of luck.  
  
"Hello, Hermione! What's wrong, dear? You look upset." She asked, getting up and sitting on the floor in front of Hermione, blocking her from seeing the fire.  
  
"It's nothing, really." She replied, looking away.  
  
"You don't expect me to believe that, now do you?"  
  
"Well." Hermione began, desperately thinking of something to say. This woman's presence was grinding at her nerves, and yet she was somehow comforting. She had an odd, big-sister feel, even though Hermione couldn't stand her. "Yes. I did, actually"  
  
"I don't. Out with it, Granger." She said, sounding mockingly like Prof. McGonagall. Hermione reluctantly cracked a smile, and explained everything to her, even though she didn't know why. After all, she wants one to open up easily, and she had only known Miora for about a day. There was just something about her that made Hermione know she was trustworthy. Miora, after hearing the story, comforted her, and also thanked her for defending her.  
  
"I get that sort of stuff a lot." Miora said quietly. "You know, people see me, and they just see pretty, blonde, must be dumb. In fact, I don't think many people know this, but I got a perfect on my N.E.W.T.S."  
  
"You did??" Hermione gaped at her for a second. "That's nearly impossible! How did you do it?-Oh, wait, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."  
  
Miora smiled. "I know what you mean. And on how I did it, I studied my brains out for a week.but I was always a good student too. I was and AM, smart." She sighed. "But, it seems that the world can't connect blonde and intellectual. I remember when word got out about my N.E.W.T.S., can you believe people said I had slept my way to the score?!"  
  
"No!" Hermione said disbelievingly. "They did? How heartless..."  
  
"Thanks." Miora said, grinning. "It was nice talking to you. You're a smart girl, Hermione." She then stood up and walked out of the common room, as people began filtering in. Hermione, a tad confused by what had just happened, stood up, gathered her books, and set out for her next class.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Ok, that's my third chapter.the next one might not be up for a few days, sorry.. 


	4. Dangerous Grounds

As the next month passed by, things for Miora were going well. She was slowly gaining popularity as a teacher, although nobody quite knew why. After all, they were only beginning to get used to her countless quirks. Well, most of them, at least. Her habit of addressing them all as "Dear", "Sweet", or "Darling" was tolerable. Her tendency to get terribly off- subject, and then pile on all the class work they didn't get done as homework was alright, since the off-subject class discussions turned out to be quite fun. Even the small things, like how she would hum some kind of muggle music, or space out while they worked were ok. But that one thing, the straw that broke the camel's back, was her grading system.  
  
Most of the time, it was fine. It was now well known that she only read every other paper she received, so as long as it was on time and long enough, you would get a high mark on it. That is, if she happened to be in a good mood. But when she wasn't, everyone, EVERYONE, either failed or did extremely poorly.  
  
"She can't do this!" cried Ron, walking out of class one day, holding his essay on the influence of the moon in defense of oneself against dragons, which he had failed. "Look! It's three inches LONGER than required! And I failed!"  
  
"Calm down, Ron." Harry said. "It's just a bad grade. You get them anyway, not like it's going to hurt anything."  
  
Ron stared at him in disbelief. "Oh, that's real nice, Harry."  
  
Harry shrugged. "It's true. Besides, you can't fight with her. She's the teacher."  
  
"She's a manic depressive, that's what she is. And you know who she takes it out on? US! The students."  
  
"Stop trying to sound so political about it, Ron. If it's that big of a problem, I'll go talk to Dumbledore about it."  
  
Harry immediately regretted saying this, because within ten minutes he found himself sitting inside Dumbledore's office.  
"Hello, Harry." He said, smiling. "How are you doing today?"  
"Good, professor." He replied, sounding distracted.  
"Why did you come to talk with me? Is it about Siri- about your godfather?"  
The mention of Sirius's name brought painful memories surging to back to Harry, memories that he had locked away in his brain, meaning never to bring them out again. He swallowed hard.  
"No. It's about Professor Lafayette."  
"Aah, Miora. Yes, continue." Harry saw the headmaster scan over him with his piercing blue eyes, as though making sure he was not lying. Harry found this extremely odd.  
"Well, a lot of other students have been complaining about her."  
"Have they? How so?" Harry also noticed ho stiflingly formal Dumbledore was acting. Was he somehow stepping on dangerous ground?  
"Well, she's umm; she's failing a lot of people. But not because they deserve it. It seems like she's basing grades on her moods. Whenever she n a good mood, we get good grades. But whenever she's in a bad mood, we all get terrible grades. She's like a manic depressive or something."  
Dumbledore nodded. "Oh. Well, I will attend to that as soon as I can. Thank you, Harry." Harry noticed that Dumbledore looked very relieved as he found out what the problem was. Harry was sure that this meant something.although he did not know what. He got up and left the office, off to potions.  
  
Hehehe, my favorite chapter so far. Mustn't say why, I'll give a lot away. On to #5, then... 


	5. An Old Flame?

(DISCLAIMER! In this chapter, the beast called a heart hound is actually from Terry Goodkind's "Sword of Truth" series. I didn't make it up, and I could help but introduce it to the HP world.)  
  
In Potions there was an unexpected surprise waiting for the students. For once the Gryffindors had potions by themselves, and when they entered the dungeon, there was a strange burst of color sitting on one of the desks, fiddling nervously with her wand. Professor Lafayette, dressed in a pastel pink satin dress underneath her open robes, greeted them happily.  
"Hello, darlings. Today is one of our joint lessons, Potions/DADA, and it's going to be very fun. My partner for the day, Professor Snape, is gathering some ingredients you're all going to need to make today's potion. SO, get out your kettles-"  
"Cauldrons." Interrupted the voice now familiar as Prof. Snape's. He had entered the room, and was now giving each student a handful of what looked like dried pink grapes each.  
"Oh, yes, cauldrons. Thank you, dear. Anyway, get your cauldrons, the ingredients listed on the chalkboard, your wands, and your DADA books, and we'll start." She nodded, jumped down from the desk, and went over to help Snape.  
"Here, gimme some of that. I'll pass it out to the other side of the class." She said, reaching for the pink grape-things.  
"You are the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Miora. I am the potions teacher. I do potions, you don't. Begin the lesson." He snapped bitterly. She only smiled and nodded, as though he had just complimented her dress. Harry found himself quite enjoying how obviously pissed off Snape was that of all people, Miora got to be the new DADA teacher.  
"OK, so we're going to be learning about Heart Hounds, darlings. Heart Hounds like to live in moderately cold forests. They look sort of like wolves, except their skin is deer-like. They're not as pretty as wolves, either. Has anyone here ever seen a wolf? They're so majestic. I saw one pinned up in a muggle zoo once, poor thing-"  
"Miora, we are talking about Heart Hounds." Snape interrupted, sounding as though he was talking to a small child.  
"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. Anyway-"  
She went on to tell them everything she knew about Heart Hounds. Within twenty minutes, the class was beginning their potions to repel Heart Hounds. During this period, Hermione looked over and saw perhaps the oddest thing she had ever seen. Miora, looking like a bright rose, and crow-like Prof. Snape, were sitting at a table on the side of the classroom, talking, enjoying themselves! Miora was chattering on about something, when she got distracted and pushed Snape's hair behind his ears, insisting that it looks better that way. When Hermione finished her potion, Snape was actually smiling. She didn't know he was capable of that. It quickly faded when Hermione put her sample on the table.  
"It shouldn't be so neon, Granger. Did you do everything-"  
"Ooooh, it looks fine Hermione. Very pretty. Go and reread that chapter on Heart Hounds. Test tomorrow." She smiled and gave Hermione a pat on the shoulder. Snape stared at Miora, bewildered at the nerve she had to interrupt him. This is basically what happened when everyone came up, and she didn't even give him a chance to critique Neville's, whose potion was the color of Miora's dress, rather than the neon pink it should have been. Hermione waited after class to walk to lunch with Miora.  
  
"Now what was that all about?" She said, grinning. She could talk freely with Miora now. She was often more like a student than a teacher, and since Hermione was getting aggravated with Harry and Ron, she had been hanging out with Miora more and more.  
"What was what all about?"  
"You and Snape? Is there something between you two?"  
Miora merely grinned. "No. There was, but it was a loooooong time ago. Now were just friends. Teachers can have friends, cant they?"  
Hermione only laughed, not able to answer.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Well, hope you liked it. Heh. Getting good now, isn't it? Yes, it is. I'll probably have one or two more chapters up tomorrow. Bye for now! 


	6. SlaveForADay

That night, the girls assumed their normal positions. It had become an almost routine part of the day that every night, after the common room was empty, Miora, Hermione, Ginny, Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown would sit up and talk. Parvati and Lavender would share a couch in front of the fire, Hermione and Ginny would each take an armchair, and Miora would sit on a pillow, facing them, making a sort of half circle with her in the middle. They would all sit there and talk, until someone fell asleep, or until Miora decided to be a "responsible adult" and decided it was too late.  
  
The conversation was usually gossip, or making fun of people. The students would complain about their teachers, and Miora would make fun of them. But tonight, Hermione had something different on her mind. After all, she knew little of Miora's history, and the Snape incident had just elevated her curiosity. She could tell the other girls wondered too, and were just as eager as her. SO, a few minutes into the conversation, Hermione asked abruptly  
  
"Miora, when were you and Snape going out?" A few of the girls giggled, mostly at just picturing Miora and Snape standing next to each other, much less dating. Miora raised her eyebrow at Hermione.  
  
"Well, if you must know, it was just for about a month, in my, ummm, sixth year. Yes, sixth year." The girls gaped at her. "What?" She asked, tilting her head as though she was missing something.  
  
"EEEEW, Snape?" Ginny said, wrinkling her nose. She closed her eyes and shook her head, as though to shake a nasty image from her mind. "Eww."  
  
"I can't believe anyone could go out with HIM, especially you, Miora, when you could get any guy you wanted." Lavender said quietly.  
  
"I honestly don't see how it's so amazing. I mean, yeah, he is a bit calloused, but all it takes is a bit of scrubbing and you'll find a tender little foot underneath." It took a moment for the foot analogy to sink in, and then everyone, even Miora, burst into laughter.  
  
"A foot?" Ginny asked, struggling to breathe.  
  
"Ok, pardon my blonde moment, please!" Miora said which caused another outburst. After about ten minutes of calming down, Miora asked a question.  
  
"Girls, I have an idea for Halloween, but I don't want to run it by Dumbledore until I'm sure I'll get participation."  
  
"Yes." Hermione prompted. "Go on."  
  
"Well, I was thinking of trying to get a Halloween party for the sixth and seventh years-"  
  
"What about the fifth years?!" Ginny interrupted.  
  
"AND, fifth years, fine. ANYWAY, to help fund this party, I thought we could have a slave-for-a-day auction."  
  
"A what??" Parvati exclaimed, confused.  
  
"It's an auction where you action people off as slaves for a day. I was thinking of a Through the Ages theme. But, I need volunteers to be auctioned off."  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Slave for a day, huh?" she sighed, and nodded briefly. "Fine. But If I get stuck with someone like Gregory Goyle, I'm never speaking to you again."  
  
Miora laughed and nodded. "Ok." Soon after, all the girls in the room but Ginny had joined. "Oh, come on, Gin. What's wrong with it?"  
  
"It's like prostitution, that's what's wrong with it! And if my mum found out, she'd send me a howler to end the world."  
  
"Oh, come one Ginny. You'd make such a lovely Renaissance noblewoman...besides, it's for charity."  
  
After about a half hour, Ginny gave in, and Miora decided that they should all go to bed. And they did, all questioning Miora's sanity.  
  
"Miora, you don't think Dumbledore's going to give that the OK, do you?"  
  
"Of course I do. He trusts me. Who doesn't? Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ OK, the Harry/Miora thing is coming up, sorry to keep you waiting. Keep reading! 


End file.
